


iDesert

by Zidiane



Category: iCarly
Genre: Poetry, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-17
Updated: 2011-06-17
Packaged: 2015-02-23 07:37:17
Rating: K
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7091887/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2162637/Zidiane
Summary: Sheila pls let me rock





	iDesert

**Set before iOMG, in an AU. **

**I initially didn't want to make anymore iCarly fics, or any fics in general, but this thought had been bugging me to get done. So, here you go. Enjoy.**

"Miss Puckett?" a bald man called. He stood at the head of a classroom, patiently staring into the messy hair of a sleeping student. "Miss Puckett." He called again, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He walked up to the sleeping girls desk. She snored.

"_Sam_" the voice of a dark haired girl called, sitting to the right of the sleeping student.

"Samantha Puckett!" he shouted, slamming his palm down on her desk.

"Mom, it's the police!" the girl blurted out as she bolted upright. She was dazed, wobbling slightly; a trail of sleep saliva connected her chin to the desk.

"How _lady like_." He said, returning to the front of the classroom.

The girl wiped off her chin, glaring at the bald man. "Oh, and that Pink Prius you drive is _so manly_."

"It's not PINK!" he snapped, his naturally pasty complexion taking on a red tint.

"Yeah, bright red is the same thing, pal." Snickers and stifled laughter spread through the class room.

"I don't know why I bother asking, but did you finish your assignment? Or can I assume your fox, Ginger ate it?" the man had a smug expression, enjoying his assumed superiority over the still sleepy blonde.

"You leave Ginger out of this." Sam growled, her tone threatening all sorts of potentially harmful pranks if he continued.

He cleared his throat. "Do you have your assignment or not."

The girl leaned to her side, towards the dark haired girl. _"Hey, Carls, did I do this one?"_ She whispered.

"_It's a poem. You told me you actually finished this one._" The girl whispered back.

"Why, yes I do have it, Thomas."

"Address me as Mr. Howard!" he snapped. She just waved him off before fishing a piece of paper out of her pocket and holding it out to him. "Oh no, Miss Puckett, you have to read it in front of the class."

"Wh-what?" she stuttered, glaring at him. "That wasn't a part of the assignment!"

"Actually, Sam…" the dark haired boy to her left said.

"Shut up, Freddie… I don't need _you_ delivering any bad news." She was quiet for a moment before groaning. "Fine, whatever, let's get this over with."

The man who stood at the front of the class had an uncharacteristic smile, no doubt relishing the opportunity to torture the great Samantha Puckett, but he sat down at his desk as his student stood up. She trudged to the front of the classroom, her body swaying carelessly as she took her place before the blackboard.

She lifted her paper in front of her, and just stayed that way for several seconds. "Miss Puckett, start reading."

"I am reading it." She earned a few smirks from the class.

"_Out loud,_ Samantha."

She took a deep breath; then a smaller one before clearing her throat. She started reading, raising her voice only slightly louder than her normal voice.

* * *

><p><em>My heart was a Desert. It really was, I really was content.<em>

_Not a drop of water for miles, for continents. There was no life._

_And then you showed up… and you brought me Rain. Without my consent._

_Everywhere you stepped, Life blossomed. Trees sprouted, and Grass was rife._

* * *

><p><em>But I didn't want to accept it. I liked being alone, surrounded by death.<em>

_It made me feel comfortable, so I ignored what you were giving me._

_But it didn't matter what I did, you continued to spread your wealth._

_I lashed out at you. I didn't know what else to do. I just couldn't see._

* * *

><p><em>But you… you saw right through me. You marched through my Sandstorms.<em>

_You crossed my Desert, until every inch of it had lost it's natural Camouflage._

_I sat, surrounded by trees, on my patch of sand. I still refused to feel your warmth._

_But you didn't stop. You sat by me, on my sand, and waited until I let go of my Mirage._

* * *

><p><em>And I finally did. I opened my eyes, and accepted you. I accepted all of your Love.<em>

_But then… I saw that it had been an accident. You gave me L__ove, but your Heart was elsewhere._

_What do I do? You did this to me… I was fine with my Desert, but now I can't get enough._

_So when will you open your eyes? How long must I sit by you before you notice I'm there?_

* * *

><p>She stopped reading, and it was silent. She lowered the paper and looked across the faces of the room. Most just seemed amazed, or stunned, probably surprised to see her capable of anything besides sleeping and eating. Her eyes drifted to those of her friends, Carly and Freddie. Both looked confused. Her eyes sought a distraction, and found her teacher. He, too, looked absolutely astonished.<p>

"So what do I get?" she asked, crumpling the piece of paper back up.

"What do you get?" he asked, like he had no idea what it could have meant.

"Yeah, what's my grade?"

"O-oh, yes. Well, it was a fabulous poem, and I don't ever remember you doing this good at anything before, so I'll give you a 100."

"Sweet…" she said, balling the paper before shooting it into the trash. She made it, gave a little arm pump at making the shot, then returned to her seat.

"_Sam, that was amazing! I didn't know you could make poetry!_"

"_It wasn't poetry._" She said, turning away from Carly to glance at Freddie. He still looked confused.

_RIIIIIIIIIING! _The bell sounded, snapping most everyone out of their stupor. Sam was the first to leave, followed closely by Carly. Soon, the whole class was empty, save for Mr. Howard, and one more student.

"Come on," the teacher said, organizing some papers on his desk, "better hurry to next period, Mr. Benson."

He nodded, and got up, slinging his bag over one shoulder. He walked to the door, the same expression on his face. But, before he left, he stopped. He reached down into the trash, and pulled out a balled up piece of paper. He stuffed it into his pocket before he started jogging to his next class.

**How'd you like it? I hope you liked it more than wrestling bears. Cause... I mean... I must have sucked if I can't beat a bear. Review, please. You may get me to write more of my other iCarly story, Stolen Eyes.**


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